


Capture

by my_deer_friend



Series: My Deer Kinktober 2020 [8]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Alternate Universe - Politics, Anal Sex, Espionage, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Photography, Pining, Voyeurism, inappropriate feelings, mentions of attraction between foster siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:48:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26939155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_deer_friend/pseuds/my_deer_friend
Summary: John puts his eye to the camera's viewfinder and tries to settle his nerves.He spots Alex right away, with his unmistakable cocky posture and shiny dark hair. John takes a picture of him alone, looking back over his shoulder with a flirty grin at someone who’s not in the room yet. It’s a nice shot. The framing is balanced and there’s a reflection on the window between them that creates an interesting dimension. John might save that one for his private collection.Then the mark enters the room.---(Prompt 8 - Voyeurism, Lams)
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens
Series: My Deer Kinktober 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947265
Comments: 11
Kudos: 59





	Capture

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by a Tumblr anon!
> 
> \---
> 
> This story falls into the same verse as prompt 7.
> 
> \---
> 
> Heaps of gratitude to @mariecherie, who knows what she did... <3

John checks his camera settings for what must be the seventh time in the last quarter hour, then peers through the viewfinder. The telephoto lens gives him a great view of the corner office that it’s trained on, in the low-rise across the street, but the room is still conspicuously empty.

Alex is late. It’s not like him.

John steps away, careful not to knock the tripod out of position, and paces to the opposite wall of the room and back. The space he’s in is an empty rental office - waiting for a new tenant, and in the midst of some renovations - so he makes a little game of hopping through the rungs of a fallen ladder and weaving between the abandoned paint cans. 

These are nervous tics. Why is he nervous?

He pushes the feeling aside and goes back to his camera. The boss is going to expect them to get this right on the first try. Alex will certainly do his part - oh, he’s very good at _these_ sorts of missions - and John needs to make sure he keeps up his end of the bargain for his foster brother’s sake. He doesn’t want another gaffe like when he sent Alex the wrong time to meet a mark.

In a sudden burst of panic, he realises he’s forgotten to check if there’s a flash card inserted - but then remembers, of course he’s checked it. The card is fine. The camera is fine. Chill the fuck out, John.

It’s just-- He really doesn’t want Alex to have to repeat this mission. 

Sure, John knows Alex fucks all sorts of people for evidence or leverage on a regular basis, and _Alex_ has always been fine with it - enjoyed it, even… But recently, John can’t say he's perfectly okay with it anymore. Everything’s just starting to feel a bit grimy. It’s hard to explain.

He peers through the viewfinder. 

Movement.

He pulls over the little camping chair and sits down, brings the camera out of sleep mode and makes sure his laptop is on and ready to start uploading the files. Then he puts his eye to the viewfinder and tries to settle his nerves.

He spots Alex right away, with his unmistakable cocky posture and shiny dark hair. John takes a picture of him alone, looking back over his shoulder with a flirty grin at someone who’s not in the room yet. It’s a nice shot. The framing is balanced and there’s a reflection on the window between them that creates an interesting dimension. John might save that one for his private collection.

Then the mark enters the room. Like most of the politicians they target, he’s white, older, clean-shaven and clean-cut, dressed in a sharp suit. John gets a few photos of his face, then of him undoing the button of his suit jacket, sliding it off and throwing it onto a chair.

Alex strolls over to the pre-arranged spot. They’ve scoped this out carefully over the last few days, to make sure John has a clear view of the action. Alex has his back turned to the mark and seems to be chatting away lightly. 

They should use microphones next time too, John thinks, then immediately forgets the idea. Having to watch his foster brother have sex through a camera lens is bad enough; having to _hear_ it would be too much.

He busies himself checking the images he’s taken to dispel the thought, and almost misses the moment when the man puts his hand on Alex’s waist from behind. He sees Alex startle - oh, that’s well practiced, nice acting - and then just about manages to make out the hesitant tilt of his head before Alex turns and lets himself be taken into the stranger’s arms. 

There’s a bit of kissing. John takes two shots of that and then looks away. Somehow, the kissing just feels too intimate to watch. 

It certainly has _nothing_ to do with the fumbled, late-night kiss they shared two weeks ago and then never spoke about again. 

John bites the inside of his cheek and looks again. 

Both of their shirts have been untucked now, and Alex’s hair is down. He’s stretching his neck back elegantly as the man trails kisses down it, and John takes another shot that captures Alex’s expression. With his head thrown back, eyes closed and hair fanned out, he’s beautiful. 

And _that’s_ a thought John should really try to stop himself from having again. It’s just wrong.

He sits back and rubs his eyes. Checks the laptop to distract himself. All his equipment is running perfectly, because there’s absolutely no reason it wouldn’t be.

This part of the night is just the warm-up, so he doesn’t have to catch every moment. He stalls and fiddles as long as he can, then he leans back in.

Alex is shirtless now, and has turned around again. His arms are propped on the table and he has his ass tilted back enticingly, grinning over his shoulder as the mark frantically unbuckles his belt. 

Okay, John. Time to focus. It’s just photography; nothing he hasn’t seen before.

The man has his pants down, cock visibly erect. He puts his hands on Alex’s waistband and yanks down, and as soon as Alex is freed he leans onto his forearms to provide a better, more enticing angle for the mark. 

And for John’s lens.

John swallows heavily.

He sees the man spit into his palm, and then his hand vanishes between Alex’s legs. There’s some fumbling. Then he withdraws and lines his cock up.

John is shooting a steady stream of images now, almost like a stop-motion film of the action. So he catches the moment Alex is penetrated - and the uncomfortable grimace on his face from too little prep. He catches the man thrusting vigorously into him. The hand sliding around to Alex’s cock. 

The moment Alex flicks his eyes up to look directly at him through the lens.

John grimaces, but he doesn’t look away. They won’t be able to use the shot of Alex looking into the camera, since that would give away the location of their vantage point and their intent, so John knows this look is just for him. There is a hard edge to Alex’s mouth that isn’t part of his performed pleasure. It’s a much more honest - more vulnerable - expression.

John doesn’t know what it means.

He ignores the unwelcome tightness in his pants and keeps shooting.

He catches the moment Alex is brought to orgasm, another raw expression Alex can’t quite stifle, and then sees him hunch his shoulders against the discomfort of the continued pounding before, a few minutes later, the mark finishes as well.

Thank god. They’re almost done.

John gives himself permission to look away for a moment so that he doesn’t have to see the man sliding out of Alex or imagine the hot rush of semen down Alex’s thigh. He’s just decided to take a few final shots of them leaving when he startles. 

Alex is still mostly naked, still facing away - but the man has one hand in his hair, yanking Alex’s head back, and the other on his throat.

John sees the panic in Alex’s face and knows it’s real.

Fuck!

What now?

The rational part of John’s mind knows he should just stay put, and capture all of this as well. Sex is one thing - but assault is a much bigger stick they can swing. And anyway, there’s no way he can get across there in time to intervene. The best thing he can do for Alex is to secure the evidence.

But - _fuck!_ That’s _Alex_ down there, suddenly looking very small and unsure, fragile, vulnerable. Every other part of John wants to leap out of his seat and sprint over and give this piece of shit a taste of his own medicine. 

But he stays put. Because he knows that’s what Alex would want him to do.

And then Alex looks up into the camera again. And there is steel in his eyes. Despite the hands on him, despite what must be curses and threats being growled in his ear, Alex is still in control.

A moment later the man releases him, gathers his things and vanishes. 

John finally exhales. Alex seems to be okay.

He doesn’t take any more pictures, but watches through the viewfinder as Alex dresses again. John can’t tell if he’s genuinely shaken, but he does move a bit more slowly than normal. Then Alex looks up at him for the third time, and blows him a kiss.

Huh.

Alex slips out of the room, and John starts to pack up. They’ll meet at the safehouse later, but he suspects Alex is going to go for a drink or three first. 

That’s fine. It will give John enough time to stow his equipment and deal with the uncomfortable heat in his groin before Alex gets back.

But then his phone buzzes. 

_Alex > Hank’s, 15 mins? _

This is a terrible idea. John should get home, wrap up his work first. He’s too flustered and volatile to be around Alex right now. Too confused about that kiss and the pulse between his thighs.

But - Alex never invites him out after a night like this. He must need the company, and John wants to be there for him. He owes Alex that much.

The boss would be furious if he found out.

It’s a _terrible_ idea.

_John > Race you there _


End file.
